


Funky Dan's

by cmlanning



Category: Original Work
Genre: Fantasy, Magic, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 17:46:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19155886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cmlanning/pseuds/cmlanning
Summary: This story follows a shopkeep who manages a store with treasures just waiting to be claimed by someone. People only stumble into the store when they need an item from it, and each object has a mystical quality. For his customers, time seems to flow normal, but Funky Dan is trapped in a shop where time seems to stand still.





	Funky Dan's

People come downtown for a few different reasons. They might be students at the college, they might be looking for a specific restaurant or bar, or perhaps they’re trying to find a unique shop to peruse. It’d have to be something local, something that isn’t found anywhere else in the world. 

A number of mom and pop clothing stores populate the downtown area, along with a couple bakeries, even a chocolate shop. Second Street has the record store which has been open since 1942, and the old lady selling all manner of pickles has a tiny store on the historic square. 

Most people will find what they’re looking for at one of those places, but some people are looking for something they can’t name. It’s not something written down on a list. No, this need is specifically ambiguous. It’s necessary but unknown. 

Shoppers who find themselves with this kind of particular need will be inexplicably drawn over to Block Avenue, to a store between a pizzeria called Toppings and a fortune teller shop, Odessa’s Psychic Center. 

Nestled between the two in a long and narrow green brick building is Funky Dan’s, a store that carries a wondrous assortment of little treasures all needed by someone but not wanted enough to be sold anywhere else. 

The owner nary saw more than two or three customers per day, and to most, it’s a wonder how he affords rent on such a prime piece of real estate downtown. Land by the college is worth some real coin. 

Truth is and isn’t complicated, but in this case, the shop is picky about clientele. Dan isn’t picky. But his shop is. People only wander into his shop when they need something inside. 

Inside the shop, Funky Dan, a real wizard if there ever was one, moved toward a little knife that had a silver dragon wrapped around the hilt. After picking it up, he plunged it into a box the mailwoman had left him. 

“This thing’s heavy, whatever it is,” the shop owner said, taking a break wrestling with tape to scratch his bushy black beard. His long black robe with gold stitching got caught on the counter corner, so Dan freed it. 

The cramped shop was a fire hazard if one ever existed. The store had three narrow rows between shelves and counter space each leading back to a glass case with a cash register on top. A shaggy green carpet usually swallowed the shoes of customers that stumbled in. They always bumbled, shuffled, or tumbled into the store, while peeking their heads in cautiously. Nobody had ever walked into the store with purpose. 

Shelves were lined with all sorts of knickknacks and oddball items even the most eccentric collectors scratched their heads at. But Dan knew each item had an eventual owner, including whatever was in the heavy box he continued to wrestle with. 

Dan breathed in a couple lung fulls of mist that sort of floated through his store thanks to a couple fog-producing fountains he kept running at all times. 

A small eggshell fox with black tips on her ears walked over to the shop owner’s feet and stared up with annoyance. 

“Do you need help with that? You’re making quite a racket,” the fox said. 

“No thank you. I don’t want you setting the place on fire, Eely,” Dan said. 

The fox scowled and hissed, “One time that happened! The fire department didn’t even get involved.” 

“They didn’t get involved because you’d nibbled on the- you know what? No thank you. Your offer is appreciated, but I’ve got it under control,” Dan said. 

Eely scoffed and hopped up next to her favorite perch, a little fluffy bed next to the cash register. She nosed around until she found an ancient gold coin and bit it twice for luck. 

Dan adjusted his black suspenders that’d caused a nasty wrinkle in his purple button down shirt then went back to work on the box. He finally got it opened and tore through some packing peanuts. 

He pulled out a bigfoot mask covered in dark brown fur. 

“Yuck! What is that ugly thing!” Eely asked. 

Dan smiled something cruel and said, “Why Eely, don’t you recognize your long lost father?”

“That’s not funny!” she yiped, standing up on hind legs. “That thing’s not even from the same continent as me.” 

“Oh calm down. It’s payment for that old flute I sold to the gentleman last month.” 

“The guy with the rats who smelled of Talcum powder,” Eely said, sitting back down. 

“Yes. This is his payment. Though admittedly, I don’t know what it does just looking at it,” Dan said, flipping it over a couple times. 

“Then why don’t you store it outside the store? Say in the green dumpster behind the building?”

Dan smirked and picked up some of the spilled packing peanuts, tossing them back in the box. 

“Now now. Tossing anything is against the rules. You know that. Everything has a purpose, and I’m bound by this shop to find each item’s destiny. This one. . . might just take a little longer than others,” Dan said, standing up and looking down the first row of shelves. He walked over and came to a purple disco ball the size of his head and pushed it left a bit. 

Sliding the mask beside it, he found it was a tight fit, but that’s the best kind of fit in this store. 

“And how long until you find that disco ball’s destiny?”

Dan shrugged and said, “It’s not my job to question. It’s my job to unite people in need with something in this shop.” 

Eely snickered and said, “Well how about you pick up that polka dot phone on the wall and order a pizza to unite with my belly?”

Before Dan could respond, his front door opened, and a little bell jingled. 

“Customer. Hush,” he whispered. 

“Tell you what, if they happen to see all nine of my tails, then we can worry about them hearing my voice,” Eely said. 

Dan put a hand over his face. 

“Hello?” a timid voice called from the front of the shop. 

Dan squeezed behind the counter and realized his record player had been finished with its vinyl for the past half hour. 

“I’m in the back. Feel free to take a look around and let me know if anything catches your attention,” the shop owner called out. 

He put the vinyl back in its casing and pulled out a sleeve in a pale color with a compass rose on the front. Carefully, he placed the album on the player and tilted the needle on the outside of the disc. 

Soft guitar and keyboard began to play a familiar tune crafted in the heart of Key West. 

When Dan turned back around, a young boy, maybe around 11 or 12 was walking in front of the register. He had some scuff marks on his face and dried blood under his nose. 

“Whoa kid. Are you okay?” Dan asked, looking around for some tissues. 

“I’m fine. Sorry, I don’t have any money, but I was. . . running by your shop and saw some people-” he said, out of breath. 

Finding some napkins unused from breakfast, Dan handed a clean one to the kid and said, “Relax. I’m not some kind of jerk that’s going to kick you out when bullies are around. You can hang out until they’re gone.” 

The kid wiped his face and sighed. There was both relief and recognition that he’d merely been granted a stay of execution. 

He looked over at the record player and asked, “Jimmy Buffett?”

“Wow, I didn’t expect a kid like you to know that name,” Dan said. 

“Are you kidding? Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes, 1977. It’s only his most popular album,” the kid said smiling. 

Dan cocked his head sideways. If he didn’t expect the kid to know Jimmy Buffett’s name, he definitely didn’t expect him to know the album and year. 

“How the Hell do you know that?”

“My dad’s in a band. They play a couple songs from this album,” the kid said. 

“Sounds like a cool dad. What’s your name? I don’t want to be that guy who keeps calling you kid,” Dan said, holding up a little paper basket for the boy to toss his bloody napkin into. 

“It’s Thomas,” the boy said. 

“Okay, Thomas. Do you want me to call somebody for you? Maybe your dad?” 

“No, it’ll be fine. I can just wait for a couple minutes and then leave when they’re gone,” Thomas said. 

Dan nodded and said, “Well, okay then. Feel free to look around. I’ve got some pretty cool stuff in my shop.” 

Thomas looked around at the various items sprawled on shelves and countertops. His eyes came across a monkey with cymbols for hands, a large clock with fish swimming inside, and then a tiny silver spoon with garnets in the handle. 

He continued to scan the farthest wall for even more treasures. He came across a birdcage with a small pink bird inside. He could not tell if it was stuffed or real. Next to that rested a glass container shaped like a lion with something inside that resembled sand. Nothing had a price tag, which caused Thomas to wonder if Dan had all the prices memorized. 

The kid spun and glanced back at the shopkeep who was scanning a magazine titled “Smoothies Monthly.” Thomas noticed at once Dan had two different colored eyes, one olive, one brown. 

His head was devoid of hair on top, but it could have all moved down his face to make that massive bushy beard. Dan’s age was impossible to place, somewhere between early 40s and late 60s, if that were even possible. Perhaps it just depended on his mood, how he stood, or how much light fell upon him. 

Thomas’ eyes moved down to Eely, and his mouth came open. 

“Wow,” he said, moving closer and then immediately taking a step back when Eely’s head poked up from the bed. 

“I know, I am beautiful,” Eely said. 

“Shut it, fox,” Dan said, not looking up from his magazine. 

Thomas looked at the shop owner and asked if he could pet Eely. 

“Yeah, she’s pretty docile after living in the shop for eight gazillion years,” Dan said, still captivated by an article on the perfect strawberry smoothie. 

Thomas moved close and allowed Eely to smell his hand. Then he cautiously stroked her fur. 

“I’ve seen people get bitten in videos online from animals they think are cute but are really wild,” Thomas muttered. 

“Yeah well, she’s more domesticated than I am, Thomas. You’re fine,” Dan said. 

“How did you get a pet fox?”

“Came with the shop, unfortunately. I can’t get rid of the damn thing,” the shop owner said. 

“Why would you want to? She’s beautiful and seems friendly enough,” Thomas said. 

“Thank you! I am so beautiful and friendly,” Eely said. 

Dan rolled his eyes. 

“It’s complicated. She’s here to keep an eye on me,” Dan said. 

Thomas looked down into the glass case beneath Eely’s bed and saw a number of interesting wares, like a short red blade with a claw for a handguard. Next to it was a black leather book entitled “Evisa Tortelia.” 

“Why are those items in the glass case instead of out there with. . . well everything else?”

“Because they’re dangerous. You can pick just about anything up out there and be fine, but the items in that case? They’re not to be trifled with,” Dan said. 

“Whoa,” Thomas said. 

He continued to look down in the glass case and eventually sat on his knees, leaving Eely without any extra attention. She sighed and buried her nose in some torn newspaper that was strewn throughout her bed. 

“Awesome,” the boy said. 

“What is it? Something catch your eye?” Dan asked, closing the magazine. 

“That black wooden ring with all the white swirls painted on it,” Thomas said, pointing to a ring in the case. It hung on a simple hook bolted to the back part of the case. 

Dan looked down at it and smiled. He remembered receiving that ring several years back from an old shaman as payment for a glass eye. 

_ Everyone comes in here because they need something,  _ Dan thought, smiling. It’d been that way for decades, but it never ceased to surprise him. Every day someone came in looking for an item they couldn’t describe. And it would inevitably be in this shop. Thomas was no different. 

“You know, I feel like I’ve eaten at Toppings with my dad before, but I’ve never noticed this store. How long have you been here?” Thomas asked. 

_ Let’s see, was it 1888 or 1889 when I got here?  _ Dan thought back, never quite sure. He’d inevitably lost track of time. 

“Do you want the long version or the short version?” Dan asked. 

Thomas shrugged. 

“Very well, since you’ve clearly got time to kill with those bullies outside, I’ll give you the long version. More than a century ago, a young and foolish university student grew bored with his studies and wished more than anything to be incredibly wealthy. He wanted money to hire people to do everything for him, money to build the largest house in the city and money to travel the country.” 

“He sounds greedy,” Thomas said. 

“I prefer to think of the man as. . . ambitious. He knew exactly what he wanted. Well, one day this foolish man met a witch who promised to grant his wish. But she warned it would not end happily as he thought it would. The student who had grown bored studying poetry told the witch he did not think anyone with such a vast amount of wealth as he dreamed of could ever be miserable. She warned him she would return one day, and he would work for her, one day for every dollar he spent while rich.” 

Thomas said nothing for a moment and then went back to petting Eely. 

“What happened to the student?” he asked. 

“Well, he soon learned of a grandfather he’d never met before, a wealthy industrialist who recently died and left everything to his grandson in the final will. And soon the student was irrationally wealthy. He hired servants, built that funky looking old estate on 4th Avenue, and traveled the country seeing beautiful women, watching shows, drinking and eating whatever he wished. Somehow the money never ran out, and life was a never ending party,” Dan said. 

He stopped to cough for a moment, and Thomas thought quietly to himself. 

“Something bad happened, didn’t it?”

“Why would you say that? Doesn’t it sound like the student had everything he wanted?”

“I’ve read enough stories to know there’s not a happy ending to this story. What happened next?”

Dan sighed and looked down at his closed magazine. 

“The student lost sight of what was important. You see, while he was out traveling, the family that worked hard to send him to college never saw him. The student’s father and mother continued running their store, hoping to see their son again. Ironically, for hiring 45 servants and building that huge house, he didn’t spend much time there. And eventually, the family grew ill when a smallpox outbreak hit the town. They didn’t have anybody to look after them, and while the student was away, they died, wishing to see him one last time. 

That foolish student returned home to rest after long travels and learned from a neighbor of his parent’s death. He was devastated. And suddenly he realized all the money in the world wouldn’t buy him a second chance to say goodbye to them. It was around that time, some of the bills from his latest trips came in, and he learned the money had at last run out.”

Thomas closed his jaw when he realized it had been hanging open for a second. An ambulance drove by outside with sirens on full blast. And Dan said not a word. 

“What about the witch?” Thomas asked. 

“Well without money, the student soon lost his home and found himself out on the street. His traveling friends didn’t return his letters. None of his servants wanted anything more to do with him. And before long, he was at rock bottom. That’s when she showed back up and asked him if he was happy. He pointed a finger at her and shouted how she killed his parents and he wanted another chance. The student got right in her face, but she did not flinch. He demanded a do-over. This time, he promised, he would be rich and take care of his family. It would be different, he swore.” 

“Did he get the second chance?” Thomas asked. 

Dan sighed and reached under the counter, grabbing a can of soda. He opened it and took a sip before saying, “No.” 

“No?” Thomas asked. 

“No. She reminded him they made a deal, and she held up her end. He became wealthy beyond all imagination. It wasn’t her fault he chose to spend his time and money as he had. She also told him you don’t get second chances in life, not like he described. The student begged. He pleaded. He promised her anything for one more chance, but she reminded him he had nothing to offer. He was hers now, one day for every dollar he spent. So the student hung his head and accepted his fate.” 

“What did she do to him?” 

Dan gestured to the store around him and said, “She put him in here. Until he’d paid off his debt to her, he was to remain, uniting people with items they needed to avoid making mistakes like he did.” 

Thomas raised an eyebrow and looked down at the floor. He stared at the carpet for a few seconds before shaking his head and going, “Nu uh. You’d have to be like. . . really old. It’s a cool story though.” 

Dan smiled and said, “It’s true.” 

“Prove it,” Thomas said. 

“You came in here because you needed something from this shop. I’m guessing you need something to help you with those bullies?” Dan asked. 

Thomas’ eyes lit up and said, “Well that would be nice. They make my life a living nightmare. But what do you have that would help me?”

The kid looked back down at the glass case and said, “Unless you want to give me that red sword so I could fight them back?”

Dan laughed and stopped abruptly to say, “No.” 

Thomas threw up his hands. 

“The solution to your problem isn’t standing up the bullies. You’ve seen too many movies where someone being bullied gets powers and then beats up the bullies. That’s not how real life works,” Dan said. 

“So what would you have me do if I can’t fight back? Come here and hide every day after school?”

“Heavens no. I don’t need repeat customers. The one thing about this store I like is nothing ever happens twice. Every day is fresh and interesting. No, you don’t fight the bullies, and you don’t run away. The smart thing to do is avoid them altogether. Then you don’t have to fight or run,” Dan said. 

Thomas crossed his arms and said, “And how do I do that? You got a Marauder’s Map somewhere here in the store?”

“Jesus, I’m not Dumbledore, Thomas. Don’t be ridiculous. The solution is what you were fixated on earlier,” Dan said, reaching into the glass case and pulling out the black wooden ring. 

He slid it across the counter to Thomas. 

The kid picked it up and then said, “I thought you called everything in the case dangerous.” 

“That’s right, I did. That’s a very dangerous ring, Thomas.” 

“What does it do?” Thomas asked. 

He held it flat in the palm of his hand. Somehow, it looked like it would fit his fingers perfectly. 

“You put it on, and as long as you’re wearing it, the bullies will never see you again.” 

“Like the one ring?” Thomas asked, excitedly. 

Dan slapped his face with a palm and groaned. 

“Let me state for the record I’m not Gandalf either. Hopefully if you don’t feel the bullies are a threat anymore, you can actually go outside and stop watching so many movies.” 

“I actually spend more time reading the books,” Thomas said. 

“Don’t be a smartass, Thomas. Take the ring. But listen very carefully to what I’m about to tell you. Once you put that ring on, don’t you dare take it off. It’ll keep the bullies from noticing you for as long as necessary. But one day, you won’t have bullies anymore, and it’ll fall off somewhere without you noticing. If you pull off the ring yourself before that day comes, it won’t just be the bullies that fail to see you. It’ll be everyone, your friends, your teachers, your dad, even me. Nobody will ever see you again. Do you understand?”

Thomas nodded slowly, looking down at the ring again and swallowing nervously. 

“You’re just going to give this to me? I told you I don’t have any money,” Thomas said. 

Dan nodded and looked over at Eely. He looked at the cash register that hadn’t been opened once since he set foot in this store. Its buttons were covered is dust and maybe a cobweb or two. 

“You know, I don’t care about money so much anymore. But you’re right. I don’t give stuff away for free, either. Tell you what, why don’t you give me the one thing you do have in your wallet?”

Confused, Thomas reached into his back pocket and opened his Batman wallet, digging around inside. He knew there wasn’t any money in there. He’d blown the last of his money on a soda from the vending machine at school, which sadly, he dropped during his scuffle and subsequent retreat from the Matt and Jason Parker. 

At last his fingers found something, and he pulled it out. It was a black guitar pick with “DATOG” inscribed in a silver font on the front. 

“My dad gave this to me when I first got this wallet. I didn’t have anything to put inside, so he tossed it over to me. You want this?”

“I surely do.” 

“Why? My dad’s not exactly a famous musician, so it’s not worth any money.” 

“I told you. I don’t care about money anymore. I want that because it has value to you, and someone will wander into the shop and need it someday,” Dan said, holding out his hand. 

Thomas looked down sadly at the pick in his fingers and then touched some of the dried blood under his nose with the other hand. He thought of never seeing Matt and Jason again and sighed before placing the pick in Dan’s outstretched hand. 

Dan closed his palm around it and then opened it again by his side. The pick was nowhere to be seen. 

“Well Thomas, it was a pleasure meeting you. Enjoy your bully free life, and remember what I told you about that ring,” Dan said. 

Thomas closed his own hand around the ring. When he opened it again, the ring hadn’t vanished like Dan’s new pick. 

“Thank you. I really appreciate your help. Maybe I’ll come back here someday when I’ve got money and actually buy something,” Thomas said. 

“Doubtful,” Eely said. 

“Goodbye, Thomas,” Dan said. 

And with that, Thomas left Funky Dan’s, same bell jingling on the way out that rang when he came in. 

The record player stopped playing again, and Dan put another album on. 

Eventually he did order that pizza Eely wanted and asked the food be walked over into his shop like always.

When the cashier from next door came in, she asked why Dan never came over to grab his own pizzas. The shop owner told her he’d die if he left his store. She laughed and said, “Whatever. You keep tipping well, and I’ll bring over your pizza every time,” she said, stopping to pet Eely. 

The store remained empty for the rest of the day, and at last when the sun went down, the woman who owned the fortune teller business next door came in. She had long silky black hair and was smoking a long blue kiseru with a tiny butterfly carved into the end. 

Her red coat covered most her long and slender body as she let out a puff of smoke that seemed to linger around her like a shaw. 

“Odessa, what brings you over?” 

“Oh, nothing really. It’s been a slow day, so I figured I’d come over and help myself to whatever wine you have stashed away for the full moon viewing party tonight,” the fortune teller said. 

“Uh huh. Well you don’t break that out until the moon is high in the sky, you hear me?” Dan said. 

Odessa scratched Eely’s ears and said, “I bet my fox friend can help me find where you’ve hidden it. I did put her here to watch your every move, after all. Might as well take advantage of that.” 

“It’s in the cabinet above the water heater under an old newspaper,” Eely said. 

“Traitor. I bought you pizza today,” Dan said, scowling at Benedict Foxold. 

“You know how it is, Daniel. I work for her just like you do,” Eely said. 

Odessa smiled. 

“Yes, but one of you works so much better than the other,” she said. 

“And it’s me. The only way that loaf would work harder is if her job was to lay around all day.” 

“No, her job is twofold, watching you and being adorable. She does both perfectly and works much harder than you at her task,” Odessa said. 

“Har har. Speaking of working for you. How many days do I have left? I would like to see my parents eventually, you know,” Dan said. 

Odessa stopped smiling. 

“You spent a lot of money, Daniel,” she said. 

“You say that every time I ask. At least give me a number so I can make carvings in the wall or something.” 

“A lot of money. . . now let’s break out the wine. But not too much for you, Daniel. You do have to work tomorrow after all.” 


End file.
